


High in the Halls

by KhalasarToTheNorth



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Daenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queen, F/M, Jorah Mormont Lives, Love, Mad Queen Daenerys Targaryen, Mental Instability, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 18:09:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19909996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhalasarToTheNorth/pseuds/KhalasarToTheNorth
Summary: Immediately after the events of the long night, Daenerys hold on her mind slips further and further but will her knight be there to defend her from herself.





	1. Daenerys I

**Author's Note:**

> This my first fanfic so bear with me. The main events of S8 play out with major twists to them. Don’t worry it is a better ending, a more deserving ending. I will refrain from writing chapters of other characters perspectives unless necessary to the plot. So the main characters are Daenerys,Jorah,Jon and Tyrion. I hope I do them each the justice their characters deserved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediately after the events of the long night, Daenerys hold on her mind slips further and further but will her knight be there to defend her from herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This my first fanfic so bear with me. The main events of S8 play out with major twists to them. Don’t worry it is a better ending, a more deserving ending. I will refrain from writing chapters of other characters perspectives unless necessary to the plot. So the main characters are Daenerys,Jorah,Jon and Tyrion. I hope I do them each the justice their characters deserved

Daenerys I

The icy winds stung her face as she stood still for a brief moment, her world was crashing down around her. Her dead Dothraki rising up, northmen and other dead men joining on with them. Her eyes locked on rather large wight, not a giant but a dead man who towered above the rest of the horde. As she watched him run towards the flames that licked at Winterfells walls she was suddenly snapped back to reality by a hand grabbing her shoulder. She turned ready to strike at whatever was about to harm her, not because she was particularly brave but because she was terrified to lay eyes on one of these creatures at such a close distance. As her arms started to shift to power the strike she locked eyes with Ser Jorah, ‘her bear’ she thought. His eyes were wild with adrenaline and fear, she assumed, and he was mouthing something and as her senses came back to her she could suddenly make out his words. “Are you alright Khaleesi?”, even now her bear cared for her. She began her reply but was cut off as she saw his eyes shift to behind her, he pulled her right arm to the side, her body following suit. The sound of metal slicing through flesh could be heard as her eyes immediately darted towards her knight, her protector. She saw the creature fall to the ground but Ser Jorah stumbled as he removed the shard of a blade from his side, a short spurt of blood aiding him to push the blade out. 

Her heart burned with rage and despair, how dare they hurt her sweet bear, she turned swinging wildly at the oncoming wight, she could hear Ser Jorah behind her fighting of his own attackers. Before long they were backed up against each other, Jorah turned toward her and grabbed her waist shifting her towards Winterfell. His touch was cold, colder then it should have been. She knew he didn’t wear gloves but his grip was weaker and not from numbness, she thought as she looked at him fighting of the wights to their rear her eyes began threaten with tears. Another wight drove it’s rusted weapon into her bear, but still he fought, ‘for her, for love’ she thought. How many times had he risked his life for her, how many times had she caused him pain, whether it be physical or emotional. She didn’t deserve him but she needed him, now more than ever before. As she thought she continued to witness his final stand, his last act as her protector, blade after blade piercing his armour and he continued ’til his dying breath’ she remembered his words from Qarth.

When the walkers fell she stopped and looked around them, refusing to believe it was over, her breath starting to slow she felt something in her heart, she couldn’t tell what but if felt like the kindling of hope. However it was soon suffocated as the grip of Ser Jorah’s on her loosened and he fell to his knees, spent.

As she cradled his corpse she could hear an ensemble of footsteps approaching from her rear, she did not care however, she would rather die in this moment, ‘let the wights take me, I am too broken to fight anymore, I have payed for my families crimes tenfold on this night alone’ her mind spoke as if it was not hers. The shine of her still falling tears was suddenly blocked by the shadow of a person standing over her, a warm hand rested on her shoulder. 

She could hear Jon’s voice apologising to her, he spoke of what little he knew about Jorah and how he was honourable and other words that soon became like white noise to her cold ears. “Please Dany, come back inside, we need to get you warm or else all Jorah’s efforts were in vain.” He pleaded. Her head whipped around in anger, tears still streaming down her raw cheeks, “You dare to use my bear as a way for me to abide to your will!!” she spat “Please Dany, let me help you, what can I do that will have you come inside?” Jon questioned, she knew he meant well but she felt spiteful to him, to the North for cutting chunks of her heart, her ‘good’ heart. “Then save him, bring him back to me, he must live, he must….” She sobbed as she threw herself on Jorah’s body. “I can’t your grace and I’m sorry for that, I truly am but he wanted you to live and if you stay out here you will not survive the cold, especially after what we’ve just been through” Jon replied in a melancholic tone. 

He pitied her, she knew, but his pity would not bring her Jorah back. “Then leave me, leave me here to die, I don’t know what I to do without his advice, without his protection.” without his love, she thought. She turned to Jon, meeting his gaze, his eyes were filled with frustration and despair, “Please your grace, if you don’t come now then I will carry you back myself!” He spoke in a raised tone. “You will not touch me, Lord Snow!” she growled back, her demeanour challenging him to act on his words, “If you or anyone else lay a finger on me I will… I’ll … I’ll have Greyworm bring me their hands and their head, I will have Drogon burn them to ash, see what happens when you stir a dragon!” She sneered. She hated how she spoke to him, she wished she could awaken from this nightmare and be back on Dragonstone, the day she arrived there with all her children, with hope still on here side. Why had she come North, why hadn’t she just taken the damn throne. No instead she lost everything, everyone. She turned back to Jorah’s corpse before Jon spoke again, but not to her, to one of his ensemble. 

She looked up from Jorah to see Greyworm with two Unsullied, “I am sorry my Queen” his broken English seemed to calm her for a brief moment, before her rage returned when the two Unsullied grabbed her arms, lifting her to her feet. “Is for own good” he stated. As she fought to free herself from their grip they began to lead her back towards Winterfell. “Let go of me, Jorah needs me, let me go!” she cried, tears welling up again in her eyes. The last she saw of Jorah was his body being hoisted up by Jon Snow and some northmen on to a wagon. She turned back, hanging her head in despair and grief, the tears now falling freely, “I need my Jorah”.

As Daenerys stood over Jorah’s corpse she couldn’t help but wipe away a streak of blood on his forehead, they hadn’t even cleaned his body, she thought. “I’m sorry my bear, my sweet bear. If you can hear my words now know that my heart is yours, I should have ran away with you back when Drogo died, I should have married you then and shown my love for you the way you have always loved me. I love you my bear, my sweet bear and I’m sorry it took me this long to realise it. Thank you, my knight, my protector, my love…” she finished with a kiss to his cheek. His body was so cold. She was so cold without his warmth near her. She felt a droplet of snow on her gloved hands. Another fell on Jorah’s cheek, as she looked up towards the sky. She closed her eyes. ‘Please what ever Gods may be up there, please I beg of you, The Seven, the Old Gods, The Lord of Light, please bring back my bear, bring back Jorah Mormont. Please I beg it of you’ she prayed in her heart. “Only death can pay for life” she remembered Mirri Maz Duur’s words as if she were again presented with the offer. “Do it” Dany said aloud as she returned to her senses. 

Looking to her right she saw the other pyres had been lit. Tyrion stood beside her with a torch. Raising his arm he offered it to her but she didn’t move, “I’m sorry my Queen but it must be done” he said “Besides Ser Jorah must be colder than we.” he said with a sorrowful smile. She let her lips pull to form a similar expression. She knew Tyrion had lost somewhat of a friend in Jorah. “Here, let us do it together for the old bear.” Tryion said clasping her hand on the torch while he stayed his grip. Danerys nodded, “Let’s” and with one movement the pyre was lit. It burned slowly at first but soon it was a bright inferno. “Please” Dany said under her breath. She lingered as Jorah’s body caught fire and as it did she turned and set off back to the walls of Winterfell along with the remaining stragglers of the group. “Please” she whispered as a single tear fell from her cheek.


	2. Jorah I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorah is floating through the realm of death. However the pull of something other worldly begins to play with his past. What is real and what is not?

Jorah I

Jorah was drowning, he could feel his lungs burning, needing air. He tried to move his arms but it seemed as though they were chained tightly to his body. All he could do was look up at the dark night sky, stars glistening but growing smaller and smaller the more he sank. ‘Where is this place?’, the voice in his mind seemed distant, echoing from times long sold to the past. Jorah felt almost at peace but he knew that there was something wrong. Shifting his head to the right he stared at misty ocean walls that seemed to enclose him now. He stared at the wall, he could see every particle, every grain of salt in its contents but as he stared a stinging sensation began to pain him from deep in his core. The pain was rising, growing unbearable, his throat tried to let out the noise it had built up, it would not allow him though. As the pain swelled Jorah’s eyes began to moisten. His body was shaking when abruptly he stilled. 

Some unnatural force held his body still while the pain continued to pulse, ever more painful. Jorah closed his eyes in a grimace, it was unbearable, why was he here? Why was suffering so? ‘Daenerys’ he thought abruptly, eyes shooting open to be met with a different setting. A familiar one but one that was clouded, a strange hue to the corners of his vision made him get up,alerted. It was a beautiful room, filled with golden ornaments and beautiful gemstones. White satin curtains flowed softly in the wind, Jorah reached out to one of the many plants potted about the room, it felt cold to his touch, in fact he felt very cold by simply being in this setting even though a dull sun seemed to be shining on him. The scuffle of a single set of footsteps snapped Jorah from his thoughts, he turned and stopped.

=========================================== 

There she was, her beautiful silver hair slightly fluttering in the breeze. Her eyes red from crying, ‘for me?’, Jorah thought. The thought soon disappeared as he finally remembered where and when he was. Qarth, she must have just lost her dragons, Jorah winced to himself. He knew this was a memory but it could not have been his own, he hadn’t been present for this. As his thoughts gathered Daenerys caught his eye again, she seemed to be looking at him. Her face held a look of sorrow and despair, as she stepped closer to him she reached toward him. Jorah closed his eyes in a heavy sigh, he knew she wasn’t reaching for him, he knew. Her hand was still moving, so slowly it felt. This was a torture of some kind, some nightmare which he was trapped in. Another set of footsteps, heavier ones snapped both of them out of their separate trances. Jorah looked at Daenerys as she turned in the direction she had arrived from. 

“You came back?”. Jorah could hear the disbelief in her voice, the pain. Did she truly have such little faith in him, her knight. “As soon as I heard”, it was him, Jorah’s eyes darted over his past self. He looked younger, more hopeful, a time when he truly believed that she could have loved him the way he loved her. “Do you know anything?” he continued on. Dany stepped towards her knight, even with her back to him Jorah knew the expression on her face. He could remember how he had wanted to comfort her, to tell her that he would always protect her, love her. “Irri is dead”, “I know” came the reply, Jorah remembered how he had only spoke those words to calm her, it had been just as much news to him as the attack itself. “She was a good un’...” “She’s dead!” Dany cut him off. “She died alone, she died for me and I couldn’t protect her” Dany’s shoulders were raising and lowering quickly, her breathing heavy.

Jorah wished he could embrace her, let her know that everything ended up alright but he could feel another emotion rising up as realised what was about to come next. “Doreah?” asked the younger version of himself. Daenerys began to walk towards the balcony, her voice quivering as she responded. “ We can’t find her. She must be dead too… I led my people out of the red waste and into the slaughterhouse”. Jorah looked to his younger self, wishing that he would not start the next part of their conversation. The pain of rejection, the rejection of another women whom he sought. First it had been Lynesse, although her beauty did not match Dany’s he had wanted her love. Jorah looked to his hand, it shook, the emotions flooding back to him, but they seemed tainted. They seemed as if they were at a heightened state. Looking back at the past version of him he tried to calm himself. “I should have been here.” the past him said stepping closer to Daenerys. “You went to find me a ship.” she spoke meekly, turning towards him. The past him leaned on the side of the balcony beside her. “My place is by your side, I shouldn’t have left you here with these people.”. Jorah knew it was true, he shouldn’t have but he had, another one of his many crimes against her. Daenerys’ demeanour change suddenly, “These people?”. The younger Jorah didn’t seem to catch on, “They are not to be trusted”. Daenerys moved closer, “And who is to be trusted,” she continued on, ice in her voice. “Who are my people?” she scoffed. “The Targaryens? I only knew one, my brother and he would have let a thousand men rape me if it had of gotten him the crown.” Jorah’s heart dropped again. He wished he could interject. To save her from this pain, to save himself. As Jorah’s emotions rushed at him he could feel a burning fire in his heart, it was anger, pain, rejection. All the hurt she had caused him, even if he had betrayed her. His crime towards her was small compared to the many times his heart had been left wide open to her and then ripped out again and again, over and over.

‘But I love her still, I will always love he..’ the thought was cut out by his yelp at a searing pain in his abdomen. It was excruciating. Dropping to his knees the memory of him returning from Yunkai, Greyworm beside him, informing his queen that they had been victorious, entered his mind. How she had asked for Daario Naharris as if her weren’t even there. Again Jorah writhed in agony as his heart began to burn, it felt as though an arrow was being ripped out and stuck back in, over and over. It was insufferable, his eyes were blurring as the tears crept forward. Again as he grimaced in pain his mind wandered to a different memory. Meereen. He had news for Daenerys, news of her many freed cities, although news wasn’t the only reason to see her, merely being in her company was always a welcome situation to him. As he rounded the corner there he was, Daario, the smug look on his face told Jorah all he needed to know. His shirt loosened in his state disarray made Jorah as jealous as any man.

Again a bolt of pain was added to his already constant suffering, Jorah was completely sprawled on the floor, his body too weak to continue its wild flailing. The pain was still sharp but his heart wouldn’t let him move. The tears that streamed down his eyes were the only indicator of his pain.

Even though he was still in that room in Qarth, his eyes seemed to be seeing something else. Another shift in setting and Jorah’s body was suddenly let loose of it’s stiffness. He pushed himself up till he was on his knees.

There she was in front of him.On her throne in Meereen. Jorah knew this place, he knew it too well. So many times he had re-lived this scenario, what he should have said, what he could have said. “Love? How dare you speak to me of love”, her voice was full of spite, full of hate. Jorah tried to reach towards her but his restraints were to tightly wrapped around him. “Please, Khaleesi, forgive me. I beg you.” Jorah dropped his head, the tears in his eyes fell, hitting the floor as if they were large stones. “No, you don’t deserve my forgiveness, I should let my children feast on your flesh, I should send you to the Usurper and let him flay you living but no. I will show my mercy, the mercy of a quick death. Daario kill this traitor for me!”. Jorah raised his head in shock. This wasn’t how it went. She was supposed to exile him he could swear it. Another jolt of pain seared throughout his whole body. Daenerys didn’t even move at his cries of pain. “Daenerys please!” he managed to cry. He was met with her blank response. She didn’t care. 

As Daario walked toward him he loosened his dagger, Jorah’s eyes were full of pain and confusion. Jorah almost wanted to die, so the pain would be gone. How could this have been the way he died. He could have sworn she let him live, that she had loved him in her own way when he was alive. This felt all too real for it to be a nightmare. How could she be so cruel, so evil. To hurt him so. He had loved her with all his being, all of his heart but she would just have his life, snuff him out as if he were a bug beneath her feet. Daario was now stood over him, looking down at Jorah, that same smug look on his face. “Do it then” Jorah grunted, the pain emanating in his voice. Without blinking Daario stabbed him, in his heart. Jorah had to look down to be sure, the pain barely tickling him. Jorah fell back. As his head hit the ground he was back in Qarth.

“...Trust me”. Jorah was looking at the ceiling of the room. “There it is, and it is only you that I should trust.” her voice was as hateful as Jorah remembered, as hateful as her. As Jorah lay there he moved his mouth to speak, if words came out he did not hear them but in his broken heart, his battered heart he heard the words. The words were full of his hate, hatred for her and what she had done to him. She had killed him, a slow and poisonous death that was finished with a knife to his heart. ‘Save your trust’.

==================================

With a gasp of breath, Jorah awoke. His lungs burning, his face was in the charred ground. He was sucking in huge breaths of air, he could feel heat returning to his body. Where was he? Why was he being toyed with so? He remembered how Daenerys had ordered his death. His heart was full of anger towards her. The pain of her memory was still excruciating as he tried to move his arms, noticing that he was somehow clothed in different armour. His body was sticky, sweat and blood he realised looking down. Pushing himself up to his feet he took in his surroundings. It was dark, snow was falling all around him. The ground at his feet was covered in char and ash but he could tell that it would soon be covered by snow. When Jorah reached his full height he stood for a moment, his legs waivering beneath him. Quickly, he tried to step off into a walk but he was met by the cold, hard feel of the snowy ground. His balance was clearly not what it used to be.

Again Jorah pushed himself up. This time he did stumble but managed to steady himself. Slowly he trudged toward the lit up walls that stood in front of him, his mind was so focused on placing one foot in front of the other that when he finally raised his head to look in front of him he was blocked. A large stone wall was in his path, immediately realising the full extent of where he was he panicked. Was he thrown here as some hell to suffer in? Was Eddard Stark waiting inside the walls for him, to finally have his justice. As Jorah breathed deeply, his nerves relaxing slightly, he could make out the faintest sound. Music, singing, people. Jorah could hear it now for sure. It was coming from deep in Winterfell’s halls. It almost seemed inviting. No sooner had he had the thought when his stomach moaned. He was starving, he was cold. “Seven hells, why not?” Jorah muttered under his breath as he set off, slowly towards Winterfell’s main gate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter delves into how Daenerys has treated Jorah over the years of his service. Although each of the memories have been shown to Jorah under heightened emotional state of suffering I really felt as if to confuse him and sort of solidify his thoughts towards Dany the final memory in Meereen was necessary. 
> 
> I also liked the idea of the Gods having their own agenda with Jorah and not just simply answering Danys prayer. Again I will reiterate this is Jorah/Dany fic so sorry if the Jon/Dany Tay was there it was meant more as a character having important interactions with the other not to mislead so my apologies. 
> 
> Either way enough rambling, thank you for the support and all feedback is greatly appreciated.


	3. Tyrion I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside the great hall Tyrion takes in his surroundings until he is rudely interrupted

Tyrion I  
“Another drink!” Tyrion called to one of the many servant girls. Turning back to face his opposition in his notorious drinking game he continued, “And in a larger pitcher if you can?”. Jaime let out a drunken laugh followed soon by Podrick. It was a high-spirited evenging considering what had taken place that afternoon. Tyrion was shocked that so many people were still keeping their eyes open, many had exerted far more energy than he in the long hours of battle. He himself could feel his eyes drooping although the dim lighting and the wine didn’t help either. Tyrion’s vision wandered hazily, not fully taking in what he was seeing but when his gaze was caught by Tormund’s wild gaze he couldn’t help sit up in shock. “Has anyone seen the big ladshy?” the wildling slurred, “I was jusht wanting to tell her of my many triumsh in the fight against thoshe dead bastar…” he was cut out by his head hitting the table, hard. Tyrion’s drink splashed up onto the man’s ginger hair. Again the three companions laughed. 

Tyrion turned to Jaime, nudging his forearm he smiled. “You may have competition brother, for once.”. Podrick smiled, Tyrion knew he was barely holding his head upright, let alone comprehending what was being said. Jaime faked a scowl,”If he is considered my competition then I have fallen rather far from the tree.”. The two chuckled again. It had been a long time since the two brothers had shared a joke let alone a drink. In fact it had been many years what with Jaime being Kingsguard and constantly having to have his wits. As the servant girl returned with refilled pitcher Tyrion noticed something grab Jaime’s attention. ‘Not many things could have done that to him’ Tyrion thought. “Go on leave your brother to waste away on fine wine, you will need the head start before this one wakes.” he laughed nodding his head toward a snoring Tormund. Jaime looked away towards the knight. “Your sure you can handle these two?” he asked, half joking and half serious. “Of course,” Tyrion lied, being totally honest his balance had long left him. Without another word Jaime rose from the chair, raised his cup in appreciation and stumbled off towards Brienne.

Standing up slowly Tyrion grabbed the pitcher, ‘these two shan’t be needing this’ he thought before directing his attention to the head table. His eyes scanned over the crowded side of the table, Jon was sat on the table, ‘clearly a popular lad’ Tyrion joked to himself. Using Tormund’s splayed out body as support he steadied himself. Shaking his head softly he breathed, hoping it would aid him in covering the distance from his table to the main table. As he walked toward the raised dining area his eyes caught sight of his Queen. Alone she sat, almost like she was a misbehaved child being punished through exclusion. Tyrion frowned, she seemed rather unlike herself, given she’d lost one of her dearest friends but her demeanor. “Your drunk,” Tyrion quipped under his breath, “Perhaps we are more alike then I first envisaged”

By the time Tyrion reached the table Daenerys has spotted him, she was slightly drunk, she knew it but did he. “Your grace is enjoying the merriments I assume?” he said with a hint of concern. Daenerys looked him in the eyes, perhaps she wasn’t as drunk as he assumed. Her eyes darted between his, for almost an eternity it felt before suddenly she turned from him. Tyrion was caught off guard, “Apologies my Queen, I couldn’t help but notice you were on your own,” He placed his hand on her shoulder, “I find it’s best to wash away our sadness with other sad people and lots of wine, an odd type of therapy I suppose.” Daenerys continued to face away from him. “I would rather not drink this way, now or at any point but…” “But it’s too late now” Tyrion finished for her. “Yes, it’s too late now” she replied, turning towards him. Her eyes were wet, she was struggling against her drunken body and her heightened emotions to contain herself, he knew. “Maybe I'm not fully cut out for the emotional side of rule but perhaps you would like to excuse both of us for, ahem, a strategic meeting.”. She looked at him, for a moment, unsure if he was jesting with her or not. His sad smile convinced her though. 

Pulling out her chair Tyrion’s action was halted by a lone guard nudging past him. Looking up Tyrion could see the man walk over to Jon, pulling him to one side he whispered in the bastards ear. Tyrion would have gone on about aiding his queen had it not been for Jon’s immediate reaction and his glance at Daenerys and then towards himself. Locking eyes with Jon, Tyrion knew it was something important. “Come my queen, let’s retire you to your chambers for tonight.” Tyrion muttered, eyes still locked on Jon’s. Turning briefly he looked around the room for Missandei. Nothing, ‘she must be with Greyworm’ he thought. Turning back toward a now approaching Jon he realised that Daenerys had caught on to his rush of panic, “What is going on Tyrion” she questioned. She didn’t seem angry as he she normally would, she seemed almost fully confused. ‘Why didn’t you just stay with Podrick’ Tyrion griped to himself. Again trying to shift Dany’s movements he was interrupted, “Your grace, I think you should come with me.” Jon placed his arm around Dany’s. Helping her up he continued, “There is someone who you need to see.”

=======================

Upon walking outside Tyrion could feel his sweat begin to freeze. He had sobered up on their walk from the main hall to the outer courtyard. Oddly enough Tyrion seemed more nervous then his queen, although he could be mistaking her shivers from being cold rather than nerves. It was freezing, but she seemed to be calmer and more contained than usual. Tyrion continued to observe, her lips weren’t quivering as they usually did in the sharp Northern winds and her shoulders weren’t hunched as was typical to see her do. It was only when Tyrion caught a glimpse of huddle of guards that his curiosity took the better of him, as it did Daenerys. 

Pushing through the crowd Tyrion muttered “Make way, make way. Move for the Qu…”. He stopped dead in his tracks. There stood a familiar face, very familiar in fact. There he was, armour still blood stained, speaking of which Tyrion could feel the blood leaving his own face. There stood Jorah Mormont, half clothed in charred metal armour and burnt rags. Tyrion’s legs began to buckle. He looked as strong as ever Tyrion noticed, for a dead man. Those words seemed to echo in his mind forever before his vision darkened and his eyes rolled back. As he hit the floor he heard scuffling and shouts, then silence.  
=========================

Upon waking up Tyrion had completely forgotten about the previous nights events. A strange dream was all he had assumed as he sat up in bed. However the returning headache made him doubt the part that included wine. Surely it couldn’t have happened, dead men don’t simply appear at the celebration of their achievements. Tyrion had helped his queen burn her advisors body, in fact he prompted her. Tyrion’s head continued to pound. None of this made sense. “I need wine” he groaned slowly raising his body out from the covers. He felt a mess, worse off than usual after such a heavy night of drinking. As he stumbled towards the table which always was stocked of his favourite refreshment he glanced at the mirror glass. A nasty bump on the right side of his cheek, perhaps he had made one of his usual quips about somebody's looks. Or perhaps he truly had passed out because he had seen the ghost of Jorah Mormont. 

Taking a long drink Tyrion decided that before he ate he would seek out answers, surely an event like this was being gossiped about throughout all Winterfell. Poking his head out his door he noticed that the usual Unsullied who stood watch on his room were nowhere to be seen. Odd he thought to himself. Walking down the corridor he spoke,”Anyone here?” he called. No reply. Very odd indeed. 

Upon leaving his accomodation building he couldn’t fight of the feeling to run, he seemed to have more adrenaline in him then on a normal day, let alone when he should be feeling sluggish. An empty Winterfell courtyard was very strange, given it was winter but all the same. His curiosity was soon quelled by the growing shouts from the meeting hall. Picking up his pace Tyrion made a beeline for the building.

On entering Tyrion immediately noticed Daenerys was nowhere in sight, although the mass of bodies didn’t help his vision. Looking around it seemed that the Unsullied were debating with the Northerners, debating being a major understatement. Greyworm, Missandei and Varys seemed to be leading the argument for the Unsullied. Their opposition was the various Northern lords and Sansa Stark. And there, in the middle, looking like a lost child was Jon Snow. Tyrion couldn’t help but smirk. Although he liked the man and respected him he wasn’t cut out for politics. “Enough” Jon shouted. Clearly it fell on deaf ears. Tyrion waited, to see how the young king would continue. “I said enough!!” Jon bellowed this time. Silence. ‘Perhaps I was wrong’ Tyrion thought for a moment before it was interrupted. “I understand that you cannot take a threat on Queen Daenerys’ life lightly,”. Tyrion’s eyes shot straight to Jon. “But given that Jorah Mormont gave his own life for her, somehow came back from the dead and after having his body burnt I believe we can excuse his outburst. Clearly he was in a state of shock or something but either way that was not his normal self. I am not saying he will go unpunished nor am I justifying his actions but we cannot kill the last remaining lord of Bear Island without fair trial at a minimum.” Jon looked towards Greyworm, “We’ve seen enough death for many a lifetime, when the queen is ready Jorah will come before her and explain his actions, to the best of his ability. That is the final word, we meet back here tonight for the hearing.” 

With that and a few grumbles from the crowd Jon turned and left the hall, soon followed by the other Northerners. 

Whatever Tyrion had witnessed last night was no figment of his imagination. Immediately he set off for Daenerys’ chamber, he needed answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait I have beeen very busy for the past few weeks sorry if this chapter is quite short. I’m thinking of doing 2 characters per chapter to hopefully allow for more content. Hope you enjoy either way.


	4. Dany II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion seeks out Dany

Dany II  
The North seemed colder than ever. The walls of Winterfell’s halls acting as a prison of grief and anxiety. Howling from the wolves outside blending as a duet with the frozen winds. There was a strange beauty to it all, a young girl, locked away with her thoughts. Not a queen for once, just the same scared girl from Magister Illyrio’s palace.

Another draft caused Daenerys to shiver, breaking her line of thoughts. She was sat up in her bed, still in shock from the previous nights events. She had seen him with her own eyes, felt him as he had tried to… to… A knock at her door startled her. 

She blinked to clear the haziness and tears from her eyes, however it seemed to only aid them in falling down her cheek. “One minute” she called, even she could hear the panic in her own voice. “Yes your grace, take your time.” came the reply. Tyrion, she thought as she tried to get herself decent. It took her nearly 10 minutes to simply get to a stage of relative decency by which time her panic and frustration had reached a high. She tried to compose herself and quieten her sobs. What was wrong with her? She was a queen, the queen not some grief stricken young girl. Finally, with a few shuddering deep breaths she calmed herself, wiped her eyes and her cheeks and opened the door.

After Tyrion had entered and made his small talk and drank most of the pitchard of wine by her bedside table Daenerys felt more exhausted than before. “What is it that you want Tyrion?” she asked plainly, maybe a bit too flat she thought. Unphased he replied, “There was a great commotion today in the great hall,” She nodded slightly as Tyrion turned his back to her and face the warmth of the fireplace, “it was about what is to be done with Ser Jorah or whatever it was that we saw yesterday night.” Finishing his cup he turned to her, she could feel his eyes looking at her as she looked towards the floor. “It was Jorah” she murmured softly. It could only have been Jorah, his colour had been in his face and his were blue but not that of the dead but his own unique and beautiful colour. So many times she had looked into those eyes and taken them for granted.  
Looking up at Tyrion her reminiscing again turned to despair and hopelessness.

“I heard that he tried to attack you in someway.. I mean after I had hit the floor” he questioned with a hint of embarrassment.

She nodded. Silence. She knew Tyrion wanted her to elaborate. “Well I don’t know at what stage you feinted,” she said before looking away from him, “But it seemed to slow down as I saw him, my prayer had seemingly been answered. And although my heart and mind were telling me to wake up from whatever dream I was in my body seemed to carry me on.” She felt her tears running down her face. “I..I approached him, well ran to him and stopped in front of him. We just seemed to looked at one another for what felt like hours but I could tell something was off with him. His eyes weren’t happy or even calm. All I saw was hate, anger and spite. And it was all for me, he despised me with his very being I know it.” She let out a few sobs as Tyrion sat beside her and placed his arm over her shoulder. “Then what?” he whispered softly. “Th..then he threw me to the floor and went for his sword, before Jon and some of his men tried to stop him. He fought off some of them until they finally subdued him while the Unsullied rushed me up here..” With that she broke into her sobs, crying until her tears ran dry. Every so often she would ask, to nobody in particular, why the gods hated her and that it was all her fault.

Dany felt alone, as if everything that she wanted or loved would always be ripped from her at some point. Her family, Rhaego, Drogo, Viserion, her childhood, potentially her claim to the throne, her ability to have children and now her friend, no Jorah was more than a friend in her heart, she couldn’t put it into words but now her feelings did not matter, she was too late.

After an hour or two Tyrion stood up and helped her to her feet. Smiling softly he held her hand in his, “Let’s show them that it takes more than that to stop the Mother of Dragons.” She nodded, Tyrion had an unexpected talent for making her feel better. Probably from helping Sansa through her time in King's Landing. Tyrion left her to freshen up while he stood outside the door. Once she was ready she breathed deeply and stepped out of her room and walked, Tyrion by her side and 4 unsullied guards surrounding her.  
=========================================================================

After they both ate breakfast Tyrion told her that there was a hearing that night for Jorah, it put her off her food when he told her that she had the final verdict of Jorah’s fate. Abruptly she stood up and thanked Tyrion for the food and stalked off. She cringed as she realised that he had nothing to do with supplying her food but it was too late. “Where is Lord Snow?” she asked a serving girl impatiently. Surprised, the girl sputtered out that nobody had seen him since this morning. With guilt for how she had treated the girl Dany smiled and nodded before setting off towards the main halls where Jon’s room was. As she stepped into the main hall everything seemed silent, oddly silent in fact. All the tables had been pushed aside to create a main opening. Dany assumed it was where Jorah would be stood when they questioned him. The thought of it caused her eyes to prick with tears. Brushing them away she continued on to the accommodation.

The first floor of the keep was empty as she walked through the corridors, however upon reaching the cobbled stairs to the second Dany could make out a faint jangle of metal, followed by a roar of anguish. Was it Jon? She rushed up the stairs all the while the jangling getting louder. She felt butterflies in her stomach as she reached the door. Odd it wasn’t the Lord’s room or a guest room for that matter. “Jon!” she called as she approached the closed door.

The room went silent, except for the faint rustle of the bedsheets and metallic bumps. As Daenerys went to unlock the door she called Jon’s name again, with no reply. Upon unlocking the door she swung the door open. She just stood looking at him as he looked at her. Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the major wait very busy with life and wasn’t feeling overly motivated when I was in my own time. I have quite a in depth plan for this story. Next chapter Danaerys has an important conversation and the hearing gets in order. 
> 
> Again thanks for all the support and I aim to get the next chapter out in the next few days


	5. Jorah II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to add this to make up for the wait. Many thanks

Jorah II  
As the door opened Jorah turned to face it, it couldn’t be her. He could have sworn it was her voice. Moving to get up Jorah was brought back to the fact that he was chained to the bed. It must have been her doing, his punishment for his sins was for him to be kept as a plaything for her to torture. “Jon?” the voice questioned again. It was her. Jorah felt his chest tighten and began to feel a pain in his heart. It felt as the room had gotten hotter but his attention was back to the entrance of the room as the door shot open.

There she was, slightly disheveled but just as beautiful as when he had last remembered, the memory of her ordering his death at the hands of Daario Naharris once again replaying in his mind as it had done hundreds of times. Jorah turned away with a scowl as he corrected his opinion of her beauty, no she wasn’t beautiful, she was the embodiment of cruelty and hate. “Wh..why are you here?”. Her voice was like a whisper, she sounded saddened. Jorah scoffed, why was he here? The last he could remember he had died because of her. Executed would be a better word. 

“I could ask the same of you,” muttered, ice lining his words. “Why are you here and not of with Daario or whoever this Jon is?”

“Daario, what do you mean Daario? Why would I be with him?!” she retorted, her voice slowly rising. Jorah snapped his head to face her, his eyes wide with rage. He could feel the burning sensation creeping up his neck. 

“You know damn well why or have you suddenly grown a conscience. It must have made him happy when you gave him the honour.” she seemed confused, her demeanor of anger changing.

“Wha..”

“You knew that I loved you, that I would have done anything for you and yet you still wanted to see me suffer!” he spat causing Daenerys to step back. “You evil, vile bitch! Your just as monstrous as Viserys, in fact you are far, far worse!” Jorah could feel tears prick his eyes. “I knew I was a fool for ever loving you, for ever think you were something to be defended and cared for. I hate you, I hate you more than I have ever hated anything!” And with that the tears fell as his sobs cut his rant short. 

Hanging his head Jorah could hear he whimper slightly. His mind was telling him it was all an act so that she could manipulate him, however his heart seemed to hurt at her sadness and pain.

Upon hearing her begin to step out of the room Jorah looked up at her. Her eyes were tear filled and red but he could still see their beautiful colour. 

“I loved you, held you dear,” his voice felt like it was the most fragile thing. As if any mere clash of emotions would break it. “My heart was your, and yet you took and you took until I had no more to give and then you threw me away.” and with that the door shut. 

Jorah wept, then his rage took over then the pain in his heart began to settle into a steady pain. Then he slept, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.  
========================================================================

When Jorah awoke two Unsullied stood over him, he looked to their rear and saw some fresh furs. “Get up, you must go to hearing.” the smaller guard stated before leaving the room. Jorah looked to the other and then moved to get up. The chains had been removed, probably what had woken him up. As he walked to the furs the remaining guard turned and left him, locking the door behind him. 

As Jorah began to change his thoughts wandered, perhaps she would humiliate him before she sentenced him to death. He scoffed thinking it funny that at least now he would have an audience to perform in front of. His thoughts stopped when he raised his shirt over his head. Scars. Not just any scars these were new ones. Jorah had easily memorised his war scars and each of their stories. There were so many and they were large enough were they couldn’t have been missed or forgotten. As Jorah’s memory of Daario planting the dagger into his heart returned to him he looked down to it. Nothing, no scar, certainly not one where he had felt it or one that was over his heart. Jorah was confused, stunned. His head began to throb and so he tried to busy himself by covering himself with the remaining items of clothing.

When he was brought into the main hall everyone seemed to go silent. All staring at him, he could feel their eyes penetrating him.Low murmurs leavin mouths every no and then. He couldn’t care less what they thought, his vision was trained on her, her and the man beside her. It must be Jon. The man was clad in black furs and looked a true Northman but why was he sat by her side. Was he her new Daario, her way of torturing him. A pang of fear hit Jorah, the fuzziness of a memory coming to the forefront. It hurt, it felt excruciating. 

His pain was traded with an image of an icy river, Jorah was there looking into the eyes of this Jon. Around them were others who Jorah didn’t remember. Surrounding them were the dead… Jorah came suddenly came to as he was brought back to the hall. Jon was stood now and spoke.

“Let us begin then”


	6. Jon I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon governs the hearing and has suspicions of Jorah’s death

Jon I  
“Let us begin.” 

Jon hadn’t been able to keep his mind off the upcoming hearing. Although he had tried by bringing Ghost out to hunt in the woodlands surrounding Winterfell it only seemed to aid in his worries. Jon had liked Jorah, he still did but he knew that there was the potential circumstance that he would have to sentence him to death. Perhaps he would have to act as executioner. At that thought Jon had rode off ahead of the hunting party in hopes that the frozen winds would cool the heat under his collar.

“Ser Jorah you stand accused of the attempted assault and murder of Queen Daenerys of the house Targaryen. What do you have to say in your defence?”

When Jon had gotten far enough away from the hunting party he turned to flank them so that he could have some time alone. He had hoped to speak to Dany that day and ask if she would spare Jorah’s life. Surely she would, Jon knew that she had loved Jorah in her own way. He must not go unpunished. Jon knew that those words would have to be uttered by either himself or her, they could not risk any disgruntlement between Daenerys’ armies and the Northerners. 

As Jon pulled his horse to a halt he began to feel his beads of sweat freezing, shivering he leapt down from his saddle. Why had Jorah done that? Was he simply confused and scared? “Of course he was!” Jon growled to himself. With a heavy sigh Jon lowered himself to sit on the frozen stump of a pine tree. They had seen enough death, everyone who had fought that night. Jorah had fought that night, fought for the living, saved Daenerys’ life. Jon could comprehend Jorah’s resurrection in a sense but his change of character, that puzzled Jon immensely. There was more to this, much more. Jon knew it. 

Jorah stood in the center of the hall. All eyes on him. Hopefully he would answer Jon’s questions about what had been going through his head. “Nothing, I have nothing to say other than it was an outburst of hate and rage.” he eyes turned to from Jon’s to Dany’s. “I had all intentions of doing something but I still am unsure of what.” Jon glanced at Dany, she was breathing quickly, restraining her emotions. Jon turned to Jorah, “So you admit to the attempt, you understand you will be put to death.” To that Jorah scoffed, shaking his head. This angered Jon. Why was this man on a suicide mission. Jorah looked to the floor, “Better to die at your hand then at hers again” he spat. 

Jorah’s last statement sent Jon over the edge. “Ser you dare to say that your death was our Queen’s fault. You saved her life, yes for that we are all grateful, but you are the one who swore to protect her and defend her and give your life for her!” Jon hadn’t realised he had stood during his rage. To that there were scattered nods and muttered words of agreement.

Jon seemed to have struck a nerve as Jorah’s head shot up, “Aye, I made an oath, but it was her who made uphold the latter part,” again turning to Dany, ”You had me killed, without any mercy in your eyes.” his voice was slowly softening. “You let that sell-sword execute me there and then. Even though I was on my knees, even though I had served you better than any. I knew I had betrayed you, I begged you for forgiveness but you had me killed all the same.

That took Jon by surprise. “Wh..what are you talking about? Ser, you were killed buy the dead defending your Queen, you died with honour and purpose not on your knees like an animal and least of all from Daenerys’ hand.”

Jorah shook his head softly, “Then why do my memories say otherwise?” 

With that Dany stood. “This hearing is finished,” she said in a tone just above a whisper. “Greyworm have Ser Jorah brought back to his accommodation, I’ll be there shortly” With that she left the hall which immediately erupted with chatter. Jon looked at her before returning to speak to the hall. “We will wait until the Queen is ready to make a judgement but for now enjoy tonight's feast.” This was met with a look of confusion from the group.

“What feast?” a man asked.

Jon laughed. “I believe that due to last night's incident we are all deserving of a celebration, and seven hells one of our owns been brought back from the dead!” to that there were cheers. As the serving girls came out with drinks and food Jon rose and left the hall. Perhaps Dany would be able to find out what Jorah meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed. Apologies if the chapters are shorter than other fics but I don’t like to force myself to write. Again all support is appreciated


	7. Dany III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys confronts Jorah.

Dany III

Daenerys winced at the sound of the door slamming. She was furious. How dare he. She could try and defend his actions the previous night but what he said in the hall, that was beyond comprehension. She exhaled deeply. Even now she couldn’t maintain her anger, the sadness and grief beginning to push through the cracks in her emotional armour. 

What had he meant? Why did he think Daario should be with her or better still why would he ever believe that she would order his death? He had said something about his memories not matching the reality of what she knew had occurred. Dany scoffed, “Perhaps I’m the one losing my mind.” She walked over to her mirror glass. She was a Queen. The Queen. Lowering her head she faced away from the mirror. “A Queen who is being destroyed by her lowly knight.” ‘Not lowly’ her mind spoke back. “No not lowly” she agreed. She snapped herself out of her daydream. “Let’s find out what this is all about then.” she said to her reflection before tucking a stray strand of silver back behind her ear. 

As she approached Jorah’s room she turned to Greyworm. “My Queen, this man no safe. Let this one act as guard for Queen.” Dany knew it was the smartest thing to do but something inside her simply wanted to be alone with Jorah. The man she loved, or still loves. Stopping herself from letting those thoughts grow she replied, “No I wish to be alone with him, but I would have you stay watch by the door and if I need you I know you will be there.” Greyworm wasn’t happy, how could he be considering the most recent events. “Please” Dany asked. That broke him, he gave a slight smile and nodded before turning to order the Unsullied to their posts.

When she entered the smell was the first thing she noticed. It was very different from the rest of Winterfell’s rooms, a much nicer one at that. It smelled of pine and salt, it was odd to say the least but quite pleasant. She looked about the room which had scattered remains of potted plates and spilt cups. As she scanned she stopped at the sight of Jorah sat in the corner, head in hands. Her breath hitched and panic began to spread up her body. Had he not noticed her come in. ‘Of course he has, get out now before he attacks!’ her mind said. As she panicked and went to grasp the door it closed creating a solid thud. At the sound Jorah seemed to snap out of whatever he had been doing. Looking up his expression changed from surprise to confusion. 

Dany could see Jorah’s breathing change, becoming slightly quicker. ‘I am a Queen’ she reminded herself before clearing her throat and calming herself. “Ser,” she said in what she hoped was a steady voice, “I wasn’t impressed at today’s hearing. In fact your actions were worthy of death.” Jorah didn’t react, at least not with his demeanour but Dany didn’t miss his hand gripping the chair as if to restrain himself. “I didn’t want to impress, I had no intentions of anything in that hearing. It was an outburst that was all, now if you would leave so that I can be alone that would be appreciated.” Dany didn’t know how to react. Jorah had spoke as if she was a burden to him, like his ‘outburst’ was merely a stern word. As he turned to face away from her she snapped. “How dare you. Jorah you blame me for your death which is horrible enough but then you give some made up story of how you died. You died with honour,” her voice began to tremble and soften, “You died for me, for the woman you said you loved and would do anything for. I didn’t force you to take those blades for me and I never wanted you to either.” 

Jorah didn’t move for a moment, still facing away from her.

“Why does my mind tell me differently? Why can I feel the pain of the blade which Daario plunged into my heart on your orders?” he asked softly, “ Why is it that all I can remember is every time you broke my heart when all I wanted was to give it to you?” he paused for a while before gathering himself again and turning to face her. “As I said, I knew I betrayed you but that was before I fell in love with you like a fool. I can’t trust your words or you but at least if I trust my mind I’m the one to blame.” he finished before standing.

Daenerys’ felt her heart drop, partially out of fear and partially from his words. “You can trust me though Jorah.” she pleaded, her mind shouting at her for being weak. “I swear I never meant to hurt you and I swear I never ordered you killed. Something must have happened when you died, something in your head I don’t know what but please Jorah you must trust me.”

Jorah scoffed “I must? And why’s that?”

“Because I need you, now more than ever. Pleas…”  
She was cut off by Jorah suddenly groaning and grabbing his head. “Fuck!” he growled before falling to his knees in pain. Dany rushed to his side out of instinct. “What’s wrong Jorah?” He groaned, before replying, “I don’t know, It happens every now and then!” he struggled to get out “Fuckkk!” he groaned. “I see a masked woman, she saying something to me. I recognise this.. this place. Qarth. Sh.. she said that to me abo.. about you.” upon Jorah finishing his memory his pain stopped and they were both left there on the ground. Jorah breathing heavy and Dany by his side with her hands on his back. 

Upon hearing Greyworm’s feet approaching the door Dany turned and told him to leave them. Turning back she was met with Jorah’s eyes looking deeply at her. She swallowed hard. She was trapped. Locked in his gaze. Time had stopped for her, how she had missed the colour of his eyes. They used to show every emotion he was feeling, betraying the rest of his attempts to act the honourable knight but now, now they seemed to have lost that ability. Not giving any hints of his true feelings.

The moment was ended when Jorah averted his gaze. He was breathing heavily. Dany also struggled in steadying her breathing before her mind began to race from how close they were, how vulnerable she was at this moment. She could hear her mind telling her this was wrong, that he should fear her but it was overwhelmed by Jorah.

“Something isn’t right. I can feel it. I feel like my mind has been played with…” He stopped and took a deep breath before lifting the two of them to their feet and putting his hands on Dany’s arms, “Look, know that I am doing this for my own good and I still don’t trust you, but I will do what it is your in such dire need of me to do but only until I find the answers I need to fix whatever’s been done to me.”

Dany exhaled sharply, her joy not being masked as well as she would have liked. “Really?”

“Really” he answered letting go of her.

“Thank you. I swear I’ll prove that your memories aren’t true and whatever has happened, we will get to the bottom of it. I swear it.”

“Hmmph, we’ll see about that,” Jorah snorted “I guess I best start referring to you as ‘Your Grace’ then.”

“Or Khaleesi”

“Or that.”

“Alright! Can you be at the dinner tonight? I..if it’s not too soon of course”

Jorah rolled his eyes, “I believe it’s now my duty”

Dany smiled. She felt like a little girl. Or at least what a normal girl would have felt like. It felt like they were courting but the roles had been reversed. She smiled and turned to leave but Jorah’s hand suddenly grabbed hers. Pulling her back she fell into him, her palms flat against his leather chest piece. She looked up at him in fear before he dipped his head, allowing his lips to meet hers. 

The kiss seemed to burn her from the inside, rising slowly through her chest. His lips were so soft against hers. The scent of him causing her to sink in to him further. Her tongue reached out sliding against his lips, looking for entry but to no avail. She whimpered but felt comforted when his hand went to the small of her back and his other to her hip. She wanted him, she was starving for him. She could feel the heat pooling where she wanted him most. However it seemed to last no more than a brief second before Jorah pulled away, both of them breathing heavily, her more than him. 

“I believe I have been owed that for a long time now,” he said with a smirk before leaving her and opening the door allowing her to exit. Dany steadied herself, blushing all the while. Her legs felt like they wouldn’t hold her much more. ‘Your grace” Jorah said as she walked through with a slight smirk plastered on her face. Dany turned on her heels quickly to face Jorah.

“Promise me you’ll be there tonight, of your own choice and not because your forced.”

“I swear,” slowly closing the door, “by the old Gods and the New.

Dany felt the wind leave her body as he closed the door. Jorah’s words pulling forth the memory of her final plea for Jorah’s life. Realization hitting her she stormed off towards her chambers, Unsullied at her side. 

They must have done this. Oddly enough it was the only logical explanation. They hadn’t had their fill of playing with her life yet. Damn them. The more she thought about it the more it seemed to make sense but would it make sense to anyone else but her. 

How would she prove it? Prove that Jorah was brought back and altered by the Gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Daenerys is going through more of a turbulent time in her head then usual so therefore she is more focused about winning Jorah back to her side. That being said Jorah is more formidable now in terms of plots and scheming while also still having the his old self trying to break through. And don’t worry Daenerys isn’t simply just a basic women but like us all she does get caught up in the moment sometimes and even I ain’t sure yet what I want Jorah’s angle to be on this. It maybe love or he genuinely thought he was owed it. (That’s not me questioning your intelligence more my own haha)
> 
> Again all support is appreciated greatly and if you have any theories or story developments please drop them in the comment and just let me know if you want me to make them public or if you want them to be a possible surprise if used. Again thank you.


	8. Jorah III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorah struggles with his mind

Jorah III

Three days.  
Three days it had been since he had told Daenerys he would try and revert back to what she had told him they once were.  
In truth he didn’t trust her but there always seemed a nagging pain when he doubted her intentions. And that kiss, it seemed he became a different person when he said that he was owed it. Afterwards he had cursed himself for it. It had felt wrong. Not that he hadn’t once simply just wanted to kiss every part of her, no, this kiss made him feel slimy, as if he was manipulating her. It seemed like something Daario would do. To that Jorah shook himself back to reality.

They had been in this war counsel for many hours at this stage. Jorah would have preferred to have been left out but Daenerys had overruled her many advisors’ opinions that he was unfit to be present. That had made Jorah smile. ‘Only because it brought conflict between them.’ the voice in the back of his mind reminded him. 

“We cannot wait any longer. Cersi will use all the time she has to her advantage. We must strike now!” 

“My Queen, I don’t think that it is wise to attack King’s Landing so soon. Our men need rest as do your dragons.” the dwarf replied.

“You would have me wait. I could have taken the throne as soon as we got to Westeros but you had me wait. I have risked and lost more than necessary. We will attack King’s Landing as soon as possible.” Dany turned to face Jon, “Have your men ready move within two days, the march will be long.”

Jorah looked at Jon then to his sister, Sansa. She looked as though she was seething. Jorah could almost see the retort rising up out of her throat. “Our men need rest, yours as well. You cannot send them to King’s Landing so soon!” she snapped.

Jorah had to bite down on his tongue so as to not say anything. Why did it anger him so much. He should hate Daenerys Targeryan, he does hate Daenerys Targeryan. Jorah could feel his heartbeat quickening. You hate her. You have to hate her. Let her suffer. Destroy her. The words kept playing in his mind. They had been playing over and over in his mind since he had first seen her almost a week ago. He would wake up in the night to the sound of someone or something saying it to him under his bed or in the darker recesses of his room. Again he was snapped out of his thoughts.

“Our men will rest while on the road. They will also rest when I sat on the iron throne. Now if that is all I suggest you all prepare. It is a long journey to Dragonstone and Jon if I could speak to you after this.”

Jon nodded and after everyone dispersed Jorah went to leave as well. He was startled when Daenerys grabbed his hand, stopping his exit. “You need to hear this as well.” Jorah wanted to groan, he needed some time to think. He turned around and walked back to the table and remained standing. Dany walked back to her seat and sat. “So as we know something happened to you, Jorah. Your memories, your mind, you. It’s all been changed.” She breathed in deeply, “Now it may simply be a coincidence but when you were killed and we were burning the bodies. I.. I..”

“You what?” Jorah asked sharply.

“I asked the God’s to bring you back to me.” she let out quickly. 

Jon looked astonished. Jorah sighed. 

“And why would you do that.” 

“Because I needed you, needed you to be by my side through all of this” she replied, voice above a whisper. 

Was she mocking him. He couldn’t tell. Surely not. ‘She despises you.’ this voices were returning. 

“It would make sense,” Jon cut in “I was brought back by the Lord of light. It would only make sense that if your prayer was genuine then it would be granted.”

“Yes, but that’s not my point.” turning to face Jorah, “They must have tampered with your mind for a reason. I think it was to stop me from doing something. Perhaps they are still trying to use the people around me to stop me. Such as your sister.”

Jon made a face, ‘You can’t possibly think anyone who disagrees with your plans is being used as a pawn”

“No but perhaps the God’s want me to stay here for a reason, whether it be assassins in the night of freezing to death. Either way they want my downfall.”

“The same could be said for sailing to Dragonstone” Jorah interrupted.

“Aye” Jon agreed.

“My decision was final. And besides we’re going off topic here. I believe with mine and Jorah’s ‘truce’ we stopped their plans. Perhaps now there is a chance for you to regain you memories and yourself.”

Jorah snorted, “Or perhaps you are simply trying to manipulate me into becoming slave to your will.”

Dany looked hurt, only for a brief moment before covering it with anger. “You think I would lie. Jorah I have told you that I did nothing to you, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Jorah gripped the wooden chair. The voices rising in volume. They were becoming deafening.

“So what you expect me to believe this sob story that everything is out to get you. Even now you twist my problem with your own to try and get me to help you. It won’t work.”

“Jorah, mind your tongue. Your not being fair here.” Jon impeded.

“Shut it Snow! This has nothing to do with you” Jorah snapped before returning his attention to Dany. Jon stood. “I’ll send Greyworm in.” he told Dany before leaving. 

“Jorah, I know it sounds strange but it truly is the only option that makes sense.”

“Makes sense.” he stepped closer to her, “If that makes sense to you then you are a mad wom...”

He was interrupted by a sharp pain on his cheek. She had slapped him. Drawn blood as well. She stood. Here eyes beginning to water. “I suggest you watch your tone Ser.” Jorah took a step back.

He was a fool. 

‘How could you hurt her like that’. ‘You lack honour.’ it was a different voice now in his mind. It sounded kind but desperate. As though it was struggling to break free.

“I’m… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry your grace.” Jorah stammered bowing his head. 

She said nothing but her erratic breathing made his heart sting with pain and sadness. He had done this to her. ‘She deserves it’. ‘No, you love her’ the voices argued. Jorah felt tired. Broken. What was wrong with him? Perhaps she was right. Perhaps the God’s were using him against her.

Neither of them said anything until Greyworm entered with the Unsullied. “Br… bring Ser Jorah back to his chambers. He is tired.” she said in a steady voice before Jorah was dragged off.

=======================================================================

She was right. It made sense now. “Of Course she was right” Jorah said to himself. He was resting his head against the wall of his chambers. “What a fool you are.”

Jorah had locked himself away for the rest of the day after their ‘argument’. At first he was angry, then lonely and now he was despairing. The voices had returned every now and again to torment his weary mind. Sometimes they would say that he should have hurt her, others scolding him for what he did, telling him he loved her. “Maybe at one time” he mumbled. 

How could he claim to love her now. Even if loved her, it didn’t matter now. She would never be his, never love him the same. That had been the mutual understanding and he could live with that but now it simply broke him.

He could fill tears begin to fill his eyes. It was his curse. The thing he wanted most. The person he gave his life for. They would never be his. 

‘Look at yourself’

‘Coward’

Jorah closed his eyes, causing the tears to roll down his cheeks. They were back.

‘If you end her you will be happy.’

‘She hurt you, she is the reason for your suffering’

“No” Jorah replied, his voice shaking.

‘You will kill her.’

‘You must’

“Shut up. Shut up!” Jorah cried, covering his ears.

‘We can’t be silenced.’

‘We are you and you are we.’

‘You could walk to her chamber now and end her for good.’

‘She wants to trust you. She’s vulnerable to you’

‘Kill her now’

Jorah dropped to his knees, shaking his head. Why would they not leave his head. The slow pulsating pain in his heart started to quicken. 

“You aren’t me. Get out of my head!” he roared, pain lacing his voice. 

‘Don’t fight us’

‘Just kill her and you’ll be free’

‘Kill her’

‘Kill her’ 

Each voice began to chant the mantra.

‘Kill her’

‘Kill her’

Jorah pressed harder on his ears and roared. The pain felt as though he was being cut from inside. Their words, like salt being rubbed in to torture him further. As he roared he squeezed his eyes shut. He held them tightly shut until it all went quiet. 

Silence, not a sound.

Jorah could feel his mouth open but now sound left it. 

Removing his hands from his ears he opened his eyes. He was still facing the floor. It seemed the same wooden flooring but a slight bluish hue. 

Strange.

Kneeling upright he was confused. Where was he?  
All around him was a blue void. It was ethereal. Small chunks of earth were floating in the distance and others above him. He stood. Astonished, terrified. He could see out for miles. Ruined buildings, newly built huts, Dothraki tents, Meerenes streets and many other things Jorah had never seen. He spun around and was met with other things. Plants, animals all frozen in time and floating. Statues and stones hovering close to him. Jorah reached up and grabbed an oddly shaped stone. It reminded him of something that was familiar. A great fire. Screaming. Fear. Strangely enough, happiness. 

As he looked around him he was drawn to one thing in particular. It was getting closer but the colour was what made it stick out from the rest. The red that covered its upper half. What was it?

It wasn’t close enough to make out yet. Jorah squinted and tried to strain for a clearer view but was just as suddenly stopped when he was brought back to reality. 

He was back on his knees, head resting on the floor, one hand supporting his body the other in a fist rest at his side. Jorah stood. “Wh..what in seven hells?” he asked. He was back. Back in his chambers. He ran over to the wall and pressed against it. It didn’t budge. Next, he went to the door, unlocked it and popped his head out. There was the guard. 

“You there, when do we leave for Dragonstone?”

“Tomorrow, Ser” the guard replied.

“Good.. good” Jorah muttered to himself as he retreated back into the room. 

Looking down he opened his closed hand. There it was. A small piece of a dragon egg. Jorah stumbled back. 

“H..how?”

He had somehow brought back a shard of dragon egg from a place that shouldn’t exist. Which doesn’t exist he tried to rationalise. 

He chuckled. “Perhaps she was right. Very well then,” he returned to the open door, a certain joy to his demeanor. “I’ll trust you for now”

As he closed the door he pocketed the stone. The one thing that might aid him somehow, someway with his old self, his old memories. But for now he had to speak to her. Tell her what was going on with him. And selfishly for himself he wanted to see her happy again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Don’t want to forget that we are still following something from S8. All support is appreciated. Thanks


	9. Dany IV

Dany IV

The light taps on the heavy wooden door shook Daenerys out of her mind. She had been crying, drinking and looked like a total mess. Scurrying to hide the wine pitcher whilst desperately trying to not cause a spillage furthered her panic. This wasn’t how a queen should be, a queen should be in control of her emotions, of herself. She tried to steady herself whilst she continued to hide the blatant clues of her sadness. Finally, after clearing her throat and fixing herself up as she could, she called out.

“W..who’s there?”

“Missandei, your grace.”

Dany sighed with relief, she was glad it wasn’t anyone else.Tyrion would be glad she had joined in his method of escape. Jon would be disappointed and Jorah, well she didn’t know how she felt about him. However, she knew she could talk to Missandei about her own personal problems without her queenly façade and whether she was drunk or not. “Come in”. Upon stepping into the room Missandei’s expression changed to concern. “Apologies your grace, would you prefer to be left alone?”

Dany knew that Missandei already knew the answer. “No, please sit.” 

Missandei nodded and after locking the door she approached the bed and sat down beside Dany. “If it’s about Jorah your grace..”

“He called me mad.” Daenerys interjected in a whimper. Gods she hated herself for caring so much. She felt so tired, like simply talking was a chore. “He called me mad for trying to help him return to being..him”

Missandei reached out and rubbed up and down her back, “I doubt he meant it your grace. I’m sure he was just caught up in the moment.” 

Dany looked down and started playing with the fabric of her coat, “That’s not what bothered me the most though,” she could hear the slight slur in her words. “It’s just that, well, it just makes me think how many times I did that to him when he would try to help me and..and in some ways I feel that this is justice for it.” She could feel tears in her eyes. 

“No, that's not true. Your a queen and all queens hold a large burden on their shoulders.”

Dany shook her head, “I don’t feel like a queen. Not anymore. It feels as though Jon Snow has taken that chance from me.”

It was true she felt like a drunk little girl too out of her depth for everything. She felt like she was back in Pentos, Viserys making her every decision for her. God’s she needed to stay off wine for a long time.

Missandei scoffed, “Your grace,” she said disappointedly, “You are the rightful heir to the throne, you have two dragons, you have people who love you. Jon is a great leader but you, you are far more.”

Dany stayed silent. She knew that Missandei was wrong but to save face she nodded softly. Jon was the true heir. She knew it even if she didn’t want to believe it and now that she thought about it everything seemed even worse. The tears were beginning to blur her already hazy vision. 

“And perhaps it’s your feelings for him that are also taking a toll on you.” 

Dany exhaled sharply; she had almost completely forgotten about her feelings toward Jon. Before he used to be in her every waking thought but now he barely seemed to cross her mind. Come to think about it, it seemed he was trying to avoid her a great deal. Even at the counsel earlier, he had been somewhat hesitant. 

“That’s not it”

“Perhaps… well… perhaps its feelings for Ser Jorah instead? I don’t mean to assume though your grace.”

Perhaps, no, it was almost definitely that. Even now thinking back to Jorah’s death hurt. Since then she had been like an emotional time-bomb, only ever letting herself explode in the nights, often crying herself to sleep. His words from the hearing still played on her mind, the idea of her being the reason for his death. It was too much. With Jorah she had not only lost a loyal advisor but a friend, a man who loved her for her. A man who she loves. When he had kissed her it had made her feel whole, like nothing else mattered. It had stung when he chalked his actions up to being merely some repayment for his deeds, although she would like to think her life was worth more than a kiss. Anger began to seep into her already mixed emotions. Anger towards Jorah, towards Jon, towards everyone. How dare Jorah think that he could play with her heart like that. Perhaps he was just as taken aback by his forwardness. Perhaps he had scolded himself afterwards for his words. Perhaps he still loved her. Perhaps. But it was too late now.

“Perhaps” she whispered softly, emotion clouding her whole mind.

The two sat in silence until another knock at the door startled them both. 

“Y..your grace, it’s Jorah… I’m sorry about earlier on but... look, I need to talk to you...please.”

Dany felt her heartbeat quicken as butterflies began to dance in her stomach. Why was she so nervous?

With a smirk Missandei stood up and started for the door, as she reached the handle she paused and turned to face Dany. “If your grace ever needs me, even as someone to listen, please let me know.” Dany nodded shakily before steadying herself. 

When Missandei opened the door she smiled at Jorah and opened the door further before taking her leave. Hesitantly Jorah stepped in ensuring to leave the door open. Dany stood and turned away from him and went to the window. She wanted him to want her. She wanted him to feel the pain she felt when he had said all those things in the hearing, in their meeting with Jon, all of it. Hopefully he would come clean about still loving her. No, this is stupid. ‘Your nothing more than a drunken girl.’ Dany scolded herself internally

“Please, close the door Ser.” She knew she sounded cold but something in her wanted to see Jorah’s reaction.

“Your grace,” Jorah started, in his soft, gravely voice. “I truly am sorry for what I said earlier, I just wanted to let you know.” He paused, hoping for a response but after realising it was futile he continued. “Also I wanted to let you know that I trust that your reasoning for this... predicament is true… or at least your intention is true.” Jorah sighed, “Look what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry and I want to trust you…I do trust you”

Dany closed her eyes, her back still turned to him. Could she trust him. Trust that he wasn’t now like the rest. Each having their own scheme. It had only ever been Missandei, Greyworm and him whose intentions she truly trusted. But now, like her children, she was down to two. 

“Why the sudden change of heart?” she slurred. Dany rolled her eyes in frustration to herself. Even though she was sobering up she was still struggling to think clearly and apply to correct tone to her question. 

Jorah winced at the lack of emotion in her voice. 

“I don’t know; something in my heart just told me to. If you will have me your grace, I would like to return as one of your Queen's Guard.”

She scoffed, disingenuously, “And why would I have a man who attempted to harm me be in a position like that?”

“Because I am also the man who saved your life by giving his own”

Her heart squirmed. Memories of holding his lifeless body, the sadness and despair she had felt came rushing into her mind. She never wanted to feel that ever again. But as those emotions bombarded her, his words from when he kissed her returning. His words that she had overlooked at the time but now the more she thought of the more they angered her.

“Ah that debt I supposedly owe you?” rage and spite dripping in every word. She turned to face him, “What more must I pay for this debt which I owe, or is my life worth one mere kiss.”

Jorah dropped his head before shaking it. 

Again she continued, stepping closer to him, unsteady from wine, her voice rising with each step, “Tell me Ser what other things do I owe. If you want your payment then take it all at once!” She was shaking with rage but she could feel something deep down inside that was hurting. Why was she letting his words get to her so much? Why did she hate him so much yet want him to take a hold of her reminder who she is? She, who was the Queen of Meereen, Mother of Dragons, future ruler of Westeros. To the Seven Hells with Jon’s birthright. 

Jorah stood silent, stunned.

A moment passed before Dany scoffed and crossed her arms defensively. She wouldn’t let anyone take what was truly hers. She knew how the Northmen spoke of her and her Unsullied when they were out of earshot. She knew they didn’t want a foreign woman ruling them. ‘A woman who can’t control her emotions no doubt’ she thought. 

“Apologies my Queen,” Jorah sighed heavily, “I wasn’t myself when I said did that. I swear I am still just as confused and angry at myself for that. It will never happen again.”

Dany glared at him. In truth that last statement hurt even more. Was he so blind? Blind like she had been? Perhaps he’s lost all hope of ever being loved by her. 

“We’ll see about that,” she quipped. 

To Jorah’s surprise she unfolded her arms and began, again, to approach, this time stopping so close that she could feel his laboured breathing hot on her forehead. She was looking up at him and he was looking at her. Each studying the others face and eyes. They stood for a while but to her it felt like a fleeting moment. 

“S...see about what?” Jorah whispered, his voice heavy with uncertainty.

The colour in his eyes had begun to return. The beautiful blue that she had remembered. As she looked she saw the pain and fear. Fear of loving her. The fear of her rejecting him again. How many times had he dreamt of this? It was her who he doubted, her feelings towards him. Why had she pushed him away? The one man who seemed to love her to a fault. Not Jon, no Jon was different. Although he was a good man, she didn’t know what attracted her to him. And now with the most recent revelation, well, he simply wasn’t able for her. 

Dany shook those thoughts away. Ignoring Jorah’s question she continued, “What if your Queen demanded you to do it again?”

Jorah’s eyes widened. Swallowing hard he tried to reply but was cut off by her finger on his lips. “Don’t speak Ser. If you want to return as one of my Queen’s Guards you must first show your Khaleesi that you are worthy to be her sworn defender.” 

Dany could feel her legs begin to quake slightly, the heat in her lower abdomen was rising. Gods she needed him. Needed him to understand what she was asking. Needed him in every way. As her knight, as her advisor, as her man. 

Jorah lowered his head, slowly. She began to shorten the distance, her left hand cupping his cheek and her right wrapping over his neck. Jorah’s hands moved to her waist as their lips met. 

It was bliss. She felt like nothing else mattered in that moment. She began to let her tongue seek entrance into his mouth before she felt Jorah shift. He was trying to release himself from the kiss. Why? No. She tightened her hold and pushed her body closer to his. A soft moan from her pushed Jorah over the edge, accepting his fate. Allowing entry for her their tongues met. This felt right. Truly right. 

Jorah was groaning now. With every whimper from her she felt his manhood stiffen, more and more. Her desire was being matched by his. She felt at peace here, secure and alive. Why had she waited so long to feel his lips on hers. To feel him take a hold of her body and make her feel desired for her, for Daenerys Targeryan. She wanted him now, no more waiting. He was hers and she was his. 

She began to unclasp his belt but had to break the kiss for air. They both looked at each other, panting heavily. They stood there. Just trying to breath. Dany looked down at his belt and began again to try and undo it, this time moving slowly and gently. But as she reached the final clasp Jorah’s hands stopped her.

His hand softly raised her chin so that she was once again looking at him. “Your hurting, I know you are.”

“Wha…”

“Its ok, I can’t do this, not now. You’ll only regret it afterwards.”

“Regret it… why would I regret it? Jorah I want you, I want you now.”

“Truly… I wish it were true, but I’ve hurt you enough and this, as much as I want it, I can’t let myself.”

“But why?” Dany could feel her face begin to burn with embarrassment and anger.

“God’s! You're drunk Daenerys…” he sighed before softening his tone “I’m sorry, you know how I feel about, well, this but I couldn’t forgive myself for doing that to you.”

Why was he so honorable, damn him. She could feel tears begin to well her eyes again.

“What if I can’t forgive you for not doing it?”

Jorah stepped back, wringing his head apologetically. 

“I’m sorry Khaleesi.” 

The tears betrayed her, falling down her cheeks. She needed him and he had just broke her heart. Drunkenly she backed up and sat back down on the bed. She felt so vulnerable, ashamed to have shared herself so openly with him. She looked at her feet through blurred eyes. 

She heard the door open followed by Jorah walking out. However, she looked up when his footsteps stopped short. Jorah turned and faced her, pain in his eyes. He knew he had hurt her. He cared that he had hurt her. She let out a harsh sob as the thought made her heart jump back from where it was trying to hide. He cared. 

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out piece of stone. It looked familiar to her. 

Her vision was still blurred but when Jorah approached her and knelt in front of her she wiped her eyes. 

“I’m sorry Khaleesi but if you would have me as your defender, I swear I shall defend, protect and advise you to the best I can. You have my sword, my shield, my life and my heart.”

She looked into his eyes, her heart clenching. How could she ever say no. 

“I accept.” she whispered softly. Again tears fell from her eyes, but these weren’t of pain or sadness. These were of something else, something more hopeful. He had given her his heart. 

“I have a gift,” Jorah said, raising the stone and placing it in her palm. “For you.” he smiled before closing her palm around it. 

She gasped. She had felt something like this before. A long time ago, in a different land. When she had needed hope. When she wanted to feel worthy of life. Opening her hand she looked at the deep red of the stone. “Drogon..?” she murmured. Looking up to him she continued “Where did you get this from.”

“From a place that shouldn’t exist,” he stated before laughing, “A place only a mad man could go.”

She smiled softly. Of course he would make a joke in this moment about their earlier argument. She continued smiling before letting out a mixture of a giggle and a sob before quickly kissing him on the cheek, “I believe you.” 

Jorah again looked slightly shocked, clearly not used to her touch being given so freely, but composed himself quickly. 

“I’ll explain later but you should rest now your grace…please” 

Dany nodded and again looked down to the stone. She had sobered up almost completely now from their kiss and from the revelation that Jorah had found a shard of Drogon’s egg somewhere that ‘didn’t exist’, but then again she had just fought dead men and kissed a man ho she had lost. 

After Jorah left she lay back on her bed. She wasn’t tired a moment ago but now her exhaustion returned. Placing the stone under her pillow she closed her eyes, dreams of Jorah begging her not to step in to Drogo’s pyre, her three dragons eggs cracking suddenly and the flutter of wings. Something was off about it though, they didn’t sound like dragons wings. As the eggs continued to crack the screams and cries from inside them caused her to jolt awake. She was sweating in her room. Her heavy breathing the only sound. Reaching under her pillow she pulled out the shard. It was hot, but not fire hot it was like an icy heat. What was going on? Dany sat up in her bed looking at the object in her hand. She looked for a long time, her vision going deeper and deeper into the shard, seeing the grooves of the scales, the chips in the grooves, the excess powder in the chips… then it went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy


	10. Jorah IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion comes to Jorah with a problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for waiting, the spelling in this may be a bit shakey due to the fact that I didn’t proof read but I hope you enjoy either way.

Jorah IV

They had landed at Dragonstone almost a week ago. Not to mention the journey at sea and although she had been flying Drogon in the skies above whenever she slept and ate aboard the ship she seemed to be somewhere else. Always zoned out and in her own world. The odd time Jorah walked past her meeting chambers below deck she was holding the shard of dragon egg he had given her. At first he was happy that she was cherishing it but soon that joy became concern and worry. She seemed fixated on the thing, like it was something she needed to survive.

The few times he had tried to approach her she would either be distant and keep her gaze on the shard or hide it quickly like a child who was caught red handed and snap at him to leave her. She was confusing, and in a way Jorah could understand the tension going on in her head but this had him very fearful for her health. 

Although their journey to Dragonstone had been fairly quiet the fleet had encountered a group of Euron Greyjoy’s scouting boats. Rhaegal and Drogon had seen to them quickly but Jorah couldn’t help but wince as his queen obliterated the surrendering men in the water. He had wanted to confront her about it for a few days now but he had yet to see her outside of obligatory counsels. 

Initially Jorah thought she was possibly wary of potential assassins who may have gotten inside the keeps walls in her absence but even when Jorah asked Greyworm to assure her that he had personally checked several times she did not leave her chamber. 

Come to think of it she had barely been eating, there had certainly been no chambermaids coming or going to her room with dishes. 

Jorah rested his head in his hands. It wasn’t really late but he felt tired. The atmosphere in Dragonstone wasn’t any aid. There was an overcast of distrust and anger. Many times he would say a friendly ‘Hello’ or give a nod to a guard or inhabitant and be met with a scowl or simply just be ignored. 

“Your worried about her as well”

Jorah looked up pushing his thoughts to the back of his mind. “Good, for a while I thought I was the only one who had noticed.”

Tyrion strode over to sit in the chair opposite Jorah, “It's my job to worry about her no matter when or why.” 

Tyrion nodded softly, before reaching forward to the wine pitcher and pouring himself a tall glass before taking a long drink.  
“Why are you here Tyrion?” Jorah questioned not trying to hide his clear irritation for the man.  
Tyrion swallowed quickly before scoffing, “Am I not her hand?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know that, to be honest Mormont, I truly believe you are the best company to keep on this island at the moment. I also think that you know why I say that.” Tyrion paused, swirling his glass around to watch the red liquid. “I have been told that she believes that there is a traitor in our midst, a threat from inside her own band of followers. Mind you I wasn’t told that by her, no, she wouldn’t trust her own hand with that idea.”

Jorah didn’t react, the words came as only a minor surprise, “Who told you then?”

“The master of whisperers. Who I would like to add is quite trustworthy when it comes to finding information”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Tyrion sat forward abruptly, startling Jorah in the process. “She believes that somebody is trying to poison her or just end her life either way,” he whispered, eyeing the to ensure they were truly alone. 

“You think it’s me.” Jorah laughed aloud. “You have some nerve,” his voice rising, “You know how I feel about he…”

“Shut up and listen” Tyrion interjected, his voice keeping it’s low tone. “Perhaps if you let me finish. No, I know it’s not you that is why I’m asking for your help. I need you to bring her food and while doing so I need you to find out what she thinks is going on.”

Jorah shook his head, “You want me to spy on her. No I will not do that, not again.”

Tyrion rolled his eyes, “Your not spying on her, I need to know what proof she has or anything just as long as we can work to try and find this threat, if it even exists.”

“Why would she lie!” Jorah snapped.

“I don’t know. Look I’m trying my best here, please just do your bit to help her.”

Jorah sighed and sat back in his chair. He couldn’t do this to her but he knew that she needed help. What if Tyrion was the real threat? No, surely not. But then again. What if Tyrion was right, what if there was no threat. Jorah had to find out for her and for himself. 

“Fine. But only for her benefit.”  
“Thank you, all you need to do is speak to her and use that time to give her some nourishment. The last thing we need is her wasting away when she’s this close to her goal.”

Jorah nodded, reminiscing of when he gave her his horse jerky during her first days of being a khaleesi. In a weird way it made him want to smile, but Tyrion would definitely think he was suspicious of something then. 

“I’ll do it tonight, it may help her to know that the rest of the keep are in bed.”

Tyrion stood and started for the door, “I’m glad I can trust you Mormont, for my sake and our queens.”

As soon as Tyrion disappeared out the doorway Jorah gave a deep sigh. Even if this was for her benefit the idea of doing anything that even brought back the sense of spying on her would give him shivers of pure shame and discomfort. But he needed answers and like Tyrion pointed out, they could end up saving her life before anything could threaten her.

After swallowing a tall glass of wine to calm his nerves, Jorah left the room to head to the kitchens. There he asked the cook to prepare a dish all the while never taking his eyes off the cooks hands. After the dish was prepared Jorah took it, smiled and set off to Daenerys’ chamber only stopping off to let Tyrion know he was going, placing the dish down to open the door.  
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Upon his arrival to the royal corridor Jorah noticed the increase in Unsullied guards, the tension that they held. The whole atmosphere was another step up in terms of angst and fear. Jorah was no stranger to feeling anxious and distrust but whatever Daenerys thought was after her must have had her terrified. Being honest with himself Jorah never really thought that she could be afraid of anything anymore, the exception being in her belief to rule. He had almost forgotten that she wasn’t stonecold ruler she would often portray. 

By time Jorah reached her chamber door he had been searched from head to toe four times. The bowl of soup was slowly decreasing from the number of times he had to prove that there was no poison. It was only when he had stopped to knock that he realised he was sweating. He scoffed to himself, he had nothing to fear, she was his queen and she knew that he wouldn’t hurt her. With a deep breath and a quick wipe of his forehead on his sleeve he knocked firmly before letting her know it was him.

After a shuffle of footsteps the door opened slightly by a dothraki who looked Jorah up and down before opening the door fully. Jorah hesitantly stepped in, not seeing Daenerys anywhere. 

“Khaleesi be ready soon.”

Jorah nodded to the guard, “Can you step outside so I can talk to her when she does come out”  
The dothraki man thought for a moment before opening his mouth to answer but was cut off Daenerys open the side door. “Thank you Jagharo, I need to speak to Jorah alone.” Jorah turned to face the man who hastily left the room closing the door with a soft thud. Turning back to her Jorah gave a concerned smile and raised the bowl up to show her, “I had this made for you, watched them prepare it with my own eyes.”

“You shouldn’t have had to do that,” she stepped forward and took the dish from his hands, quickly putting it on the side table before continuing “I appreciate your concern but surely that isn’t the only reason for you being here.”

Jorah sat down on one of the various chairs. She was wearing a heavy garment as was Jagharo and yet neither were sweating as profusely as he was. In fact, after she spoke Jorah could see the heat from her breath hitting cold air. After wiping his face again to clear it of sweat he spoke, “I’m worried about you. You haven’t been eating, you have barely come out of this chamber and I can tell that you have slept very little. Please, tell me what is wrong, how can I fix it?” His last sentence sounded more pained then he had meant it to be.

Her face dropped, was it that obvious? “Your right about all those things and I am sorry to have kept you in the dark.” she paused before sighing heavily. “There is a traitor, here on this island, I know it.” 

Jorah feigned shock, “What makes you think that?” 

“Not think, I know that someone is here trying to kill me. Ever since we got here, I have felt it.”

“Surely you have something to back it up though?”

She shook her head, ‘No, well not really.”

“What then. What made you believe that somebody is here with ill intent. I checked this whole island, more times than I would like.” Jorah was struggling to hide his growing frustration, “Please Khaleesi, tell me. I need to know if I am to protect you to the best of my ability.”

She turned away from him and walked over to a set of heavy wooden doors. She paused, clearly weighing up what she was going to say. Jorah’s heart sank slightly at the thought of her not trusting in his reaction. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped when she undid the latch to the doors and swung them open, revealing the high balcony. Turning back her eyes darted around the room as if she was looking for a threat of some kind. Jorah’s heart sank further. It pained him to see her like this, so hyper-aware and anxious. He had noticed her hands wringing for the last few minutes and the small twitch from her left eye from exhaustion and stress, All symptoms he had before a battle. 

“C..can we speak out here? Please” she asked meekly. This was not good, there is something very wrong here. The thought of what bounced around Jorah’s concerned mind. As she stepped out he could see her shiver and as he went to follow her he grabbed a bed cover from one of the drying racks by the fire. Just before stepping out Jorah stumbled, his vision and balance blurring for a moment. Shaking his head and wiping the newly gathered droplets of sweat of this forehead, he stabled himself on the door frame. What was going on with him?

“Here, wouldn’t want you to catch a cold this close to the goal” 

She gave him a weak smile as she allowed him to lay the sheet over her. “Thank you”

He smiled, before looking out at the breezy tides down below. It was beautiful, the way the water lit up from the pale light of the moon. The foam of the waves, crashing below the rocky outcrop that the balcony stood upon. The cold seemed to be cooling down his brain a bit although every so often he had to catch himself from collapsing. Get a grip of yourself Mormont. Looking out to his left, Jorah could see one of the many sharp points of land that jutted out into the ocean. If it was a bit warmer and under different circumstances Jorah would have wished to stay here forever. Forever, with her. She would be happy. He needed her to be happy. 

“It’s beautiful isn’t it.” her voice broke through his daydream. “I sometimes come out here when it all gets too much. I would come out here a lot when I worried about your greyscale.” she laughed, it was a somber, sad laugh with a hint of embarrassment. “ I reckon these cliffs could tell a tale or two about Daenerys Targeryan.”

Jorah smiled, softly, carefully. “Tales of her beauty and achievements no doubt.”

She looked away at that, Jorah cursed himself for thinking he should say that but when she spoke he froze. “Or perhaps of her madness and her failures.” she turned to look back out at the ocean, a stray tear betraying her queenly act. “How her whole life had been one series of lies and grief after another. How everything she touches turns to pain, she who caused her husband’s death, the death of her child, two of her children in fact. The girl whose own brother couldn’t love her.” her voice was breaking and shuddering as she carried on “The girl who believed that her saving grace was that she could change this world, break the wheel. To think that she was worth something, no, even that was too good for her. Everything that she does, every choice always leads her closer to her demise. All he…” she was stopped as Jorah pulled her into a hug. He could feel her shake as she sobbed into his chest. He had to fight his own tears back, he had to be her strength. He felt her try and push away from but he held her firm. 

“Why can't I just be given a chance? Just one chance at happiness!” she bawled as her fist wormed their way up to his chest. A few heavy pounds on his ribcage were worth letting her vent. “Why, Jorah, why?!” Jorah pulled her closer rubbing her back and shushing her. 

“Daenerys, all those things that you think are failures, they’re not, they were lessons. Everyone you meet you inspire, everything you touch becomes ten times as good as it was before. You deserve happiness and you will have it whether it be on the throne or not, I swear it you shall have it. You are loved, more than you know. I witnessed men give their lives for you, I gave my life for you. I gave it not because I was owed something but because I love you. Ever since I first met you and I will love you for the rest of my life. Tyrion, Greyworm, Missandei, Jon. We all love you in their own way.” 

She pushed her head away from his chest, tears streaking her cheeks. “Jon is the true heir to the throne. He is Rhaeghar’s son. With Lyanna Stark.”

Jorah stopped as it sunk in. “B..but Robert..”

“They married in secret, they loved each other.”

Jorah began to shake with a mixture of rage and shock, “I..if..if I had known I wo...wouldn’t. Fuck.” he let go of her and turned his back, rubbing the back of his head with his palm. “Forgive me Khaleesi, if I had known, I wouldn’t have…”

She shook her head, “I doesn’t matter, how could you have known. All that matters is that I was never meant to rule the seven kingdoms or break the wheel,” she gave a pained scoff. “Perhaps I was merely meant to bring my armies over here to aid Jon’s claim.”

Jorah turned to her, it angered him seeing her give up on what she had strived for nearly all her life and this pounding in his head wasn’t helping him either. “But you deserve to rule, Jon doesn’t want it, surely not if it means destroying what you’ve worked so hard for!” his fists were white with rage. Why was there always another huge hurdle after another for her. 

She dropped her head, her hands found each other again. “He doesn’t want it but he doesn’t realise that if he tells people they will want him on the throne and not me. Jorah, there’s no way around this, not without hurting Jon and the North and I will not do that.”

Jorah sighed, “Thank you for that.” he paused to think for a moment. As he thought he stepped over to the balcony again and leaned on it. Looking out again on to the scenery his thoughts shifted from her to Westeros to Jon to the North. What could he do? What counsel would bring her closer to what she wanted. She stepped over beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. He froze momentarily, his hand wanting to rest on her hip. It felt wrong for him to do it. Before he could pull it away she grasped it and placed it there for him, sinking further into him. Jorah didn’t know what to do next. His mouth opened to speak but no words left it. Looking down to her he could see she was looking off into nothingness, her silver hair wisping around in the steady breeze. Deciding on simply saying nothing Jorah relaxed, gradually, more and more. In a strange way it felt like home.

They stood there for a while, Jorah couldn’t be sure how long. He would shiver every now and then but he didn’t feel cold. Not with her so close to him. Or perhaps it was whatever was causing him to feel so faint. He needed to sit down, his legs were growing more and more unstable by the second, shamefully he was sort of using her as a crutch at this point.

“I’ve been having dreams, visions maybe. They started when you gave me that piece of dragon egg. At first I thought it was just memories, I was back at Drogo’s pyre. I was in the pyre with the eggs but when they hatched, it..it wasn’t either of them. There were crows, three small crows.” she looked at Jorah, the prayer in her eyes begging him to believe her. He held her gaze before asking to continue. Looking back out she continued, “I woke up and well, I don’t know why really but I looked at the shard you gave me and as I looked at it.. Oh gods Jorah, it showed me horrible things, it told me things. Things which nobody could ever know but me. I told me about the traitor. It speaks to me whenever I have it near me. It told me that you would come up here tonight, Tyrion asked you to and he also asked you to bring me food. Thank you for that by the way.” Jorah smiled, weakly. His face felt like it was on fire. His eyes were begging to rest and his legs were buckling slightly. Something was wrong with him. As she looked at him again he could see her face change from gratefulness to concern.

“Jorah, Jorah! What’s wrong…!?” 

He couldn’t hear anymore. Her mouth was moving but everything was silent for him. Finally his legs gave way and he dropped to the floor, his fall lessened as she tried to hold him. He was on his back, looking up the cliff face. His vision was darkening. He could see her now, her face looking down at him, tears beginning to wet her eyes. She was cupping his face now, her mouth moving, speaking words he couldn’t hear. As he got lost in her face, he began to feel fear. He was scared. Very scared. Scared to leave her alone, scared to be without her. She got up and ran out of his sight leading him to use his strength to let his head flop over onto its side so that he could see her. She was pounding on the door, yelling at someone behind it. 

A flash off two black shadow passed through his hazed vision. They were cloaked in pure black, or so it seemed as everything was blending together. The glint of steel seemed to kickstart Jorah’s body again as he violently through his right arm across his torso, trying to get up. His eyes never left the picture unfolding. She had given up on the door and had turned to see the intruders. The look of terror in her eyes as they stepped closer. Jorah grunted, he was on his hands and knees now. He knew he had to protect her, but with what? 

Daenerys was still trying to hold her strong manner but Jorah could see how clearly her eyes were giving her away. 

The two men were circling her now, they both looked like predators playing with their prey. 

Jorah pushed himself of his knee so that he was standing. He wobbled suddenly before using the balcony wall as a support. Neither of the two assassins seemed to notice that he was up. Jorah wiped the tickle at his nose before preparing himself to attack the men, both of which were now mere steps metres away from Dany. Looking down at his sleeve he could see that there was blood on it. He shouldn’t be able to stand right now, he should be dying. As the adrenaline continued to pump through him he stumbled to the door, causing enough noise for the two men to turn and spot him. 

“Great,” the bigger one griped. “He had one job and couldn’t even do that.”

Jorah again steadied himself; this time on the inside of the door frame that led out to the balcony. The bigger assassin nodded to the smaller one before stepping forward towards Jorah. The smaller man grabbed Daenerys and began to wrestle with her while trying to bind her arms. Jorah went to threaten the smaller man but was taken down, the wind leaving him as he impacted the hard stone floor. Again he was looking up, this time the ceiling was facing him. Looking down he crashed his elbow on to the man’s head repeatedly until the man reached up to hold it off. As the man held Jorah’s arm up he wriggled his weight until it was all resting on his chest. Jorah tried to move his arms but a swift punch to his jaw limpened his movements. Another punch strook and the blur in his vision returned. Blow after blow hit him but Jorah couldn’t feel the pain over the heat in his body. 

“Leave him alone!!” 

Her hands were bound now but she was still battling to free herself. Another blow turned his head away from her. He needed to help her. He needed to help himself. Another blow and now he was faced back to her. She was being flung onto the large, crimson bed. The smaller man was unbuckling his belt. 

“Leave her the fuck alone!!” Jorah roared but was again silenced by a punch. He had to save her. If he couldn’t protect her then he deserved to die. Looking at the space around him his eyes caught on to a fallen glass. 

Another blow and he could see her pushing the man away. The fear on her face would have broken him but now it only enraged him further. How dare they. Another blow. Jorah tried to wriggle his hand free. Come on. As he freed his hand he hit the man in the nose before he reached over to the glass. The man recovered and spotted what Jorah was trying to do and sprawled to do the same. Noticing the man’s shift in position Jorah rolled his hip over causing him to be on top of the man. Grabbing the man’s dagger from its sheath, Jorah plunged it into the assassin’s chest. Twisting the blade, Jorah took a sadistic pleasure in the man’s gurgled scream of pain. Pulling the dagger out, he plunged it again this time into the man’s throat.   
As the man clawed at his throat, the life leaving him quickly. 

Standing quickly Jorah dashed over to the smaller assassin. The man was still trying to hold a struggling Daenerys down. Seeing his window of opportunity Jorah pounced, stabbing the man in his side and throwing him to the floor. Jumping on the man Jorah began to batter the man. Punch after punch. The man’s face slowly becoming a disfigured piece of flesh. Jorah hated him. He dared to try and defile the thing he loved most in this world. Jorah could feel himself weakening. Why was he like this? The food. Of course when he placed it down outside of Tyrion’s chambers. Shit. If he was about to die of poisoning he had better get the job done now. As he pounded his fist on the man, pounding on the door grew louder. Just keep him down until they get in. Another blow to the man’s face. The crunch of a shattered nose acting as music to Jorah’s war anthem. Jorah didn’t know when the door was broken down but when he was dragged off the man the only thing that calmed him was Daenerys, sitting silent on the bed. 

“Take him away, we will question him later.” Tyrion spoke, a clear shake in his voice. Was it fear. Even with ten dothraki guards was he really that afraid. “Your grace I will tell Missandei to come up to your chambers.” Daenerys simply replied with a small nod before looking from her Hand to Jorah. Tyrion caught on and shooed the guards off, leaving two behind to protect his queen. 

Once the door was closed, not fully as the lock had been destroyed, Dany stood and shakily began to pick up the fallen items. She was clearly in shock, why shouldn’t she be. 

“P...please sit down Khaleesi.” His throat was dry and hoarse. He needed her to be accompanied before he gave in to the call of darkness that was steadily taking him over. “Make sure Greyworm stays with you and Missandei tonight.”

She turned, the look of utter fear breaking his heart. She needed to let her emotions out. “Wha... why where will you be? Jorah, I want you here, I need you here. Please!” tears began streaming down her face. She needed him. Needed his comfort, his protecting and he knew it. But he was useless to her now.

“I’m sorry, but I… need... to… res….”

His vision went black, the last image of her stood in pure shock.


	11. Jorah V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jorah returns to the void

Jorah V

“Mormont”

“Mormont”

“Come to us Mormont”

Jorah’s eyes opened slowly. He was back. Back in the blue void. 

“Come to us”

Jorah turned his head quickly. The voice, it was like a sharp whisper in his ear. It sounded so close. 

“Who’s there? Where am I?!” he called out. No reply. 

Where was he indeed. Looking around slowly, Jorah could see that he wasn’t on the same bit of “land” that he had been on before. All of the tents and buildings from his time away from Westeros were no longer scattered on islands around him. Now he was surrounded by Winterfell, or at least what used to be Winterfell. The ruined sigil of house Stark was the only indicator of what the pile of rubble once had been. 

Step to the edge of his own island, Jorah looked down. Nothing but more islands all of which seemed to be following their own cycle of floating forward. A sudden movement in the rocks at his feet caused him to stumble back, losing his footing in the process. A small bridge of pebbles and stones formed out of, what seemed to be, thin air. 

Shaking his head in disbelief, he picked himself up and wiped the scattered dust off his clothes. Looking up the stoney bridge, Jorah could make out a small island inhabited by a single weirwood tree. It’s red leafs acting as a beacon against the wash of greys and blues. 

“Mormont”

The voices, they were coming from the direction of the tree. He had to find out who they were. What they were. Hesitantly, Jorah hovered his foot over the bridge. He was fighting for balance, his supporting leg shaking from fear. ‘Come on Mormont, control yourself.’ he thought, internally battling his bodies want to turn and run.   
With one deep gulp of air he planted his foot down. Then another, then another. By time he released his breath he was a quarter of the way across. 

Looking around himself in awe, he could see many things that he remembered, all of the various locations outside of Westeros and those that made up Westeros. He could see many tourneys he had attended, he could see the many battlefields in which he had fought as well as a few he hadn’t. As he walked and took in his surroundings the voices were getting louder and closer. They were definitely coming from the tree. Bringing himself back to his senses, Jorah stopped. The tree was only a few feet away from him and the voices were louder than ever; all chanting some unknown language. 

“I am here, where are you? What do you want with me?” he tried to make his voice sound confident, but even he didn’t believe it.

The babbling from the tree abruptly stopped. Jorah felt lost. What in seven hells was going on? Opening his mouth to speak again, Jorah was shocked to see warm air leave the mouth of the tree. It was almost like breath hitting the cold. 

“Enter, Jorah Mormont.”

Again Jorah found himself terrified as the mouth of the tree began to expand. It was stretching, causing the tree to become deformed and horrid. When the movements had stopped, he was left at the gaping entrance to what seemed to be the inside of the tree. Not wanting to be terrified further, Jorah quickly set off into the ‘doorway’. 

It was dark. So dark that he couldn’t make out which foot was where. Every so often he would hear strange movements to his sides. With a renewed bounce in his step, albeit out of fear, he gradually broke out into a steady jog, his only destination being a small faded blue light that had begun to grow ahead of him.

Once he reached the source of the light, Jorah brushed through the various roots and plant life that blocked the entrance and froze. 

“H..h..how?” his thoughts leaving his mouth.

Looking around, he could feel his eyes grow wet. He was home. He was back on Bear Island.   
It was more beautiful than he remembered. As he walked, he could see the old bakery he used to go to when he was sick of eating the old cook’s awful stews. Or the blacksmith, who had made him his first hunting knife as a gift on his birthday. Walking further into the small island keep, he reminisced over the different taverns and all the various archery posts that he had practiced both drinking and fighting. As he looked further he could see his Lord Father’s home. It was a few hundred meters away from the rest of the town but it still looked just as beautiful. It was perched on the tallest hill in the vicinity, which wasn’t that tall in all honesty, but from the top floors the view was amazing. 

By time Jorah reached the end of the main town the voices had started up again this time forming into one. 

“This is your home, Jorah Mormont.”

“Yes” he replied, his eyes focused on his home. 

He was a mere hundred metres away when the door of the house shot open and a child ran out into the grassy field surrounding the building. Jorah paused, crouching so as to not frighten the boy, who hadn’t seen him yet. Looking closely Jorah could make out the boy’s hair, how it shimmered in the light.

“You have return here for a time now.”

“Yes. Is..is that me?” he asked, hope in his voice. Hope of seeing his father and mother again.

His question was quickly answered, when another child came running out, a girl, blonde hair crowning her head. She was younger than the boy, who looked no older than seven. She ran over to what Jorah assumed was her brother. They looked so happy, so free. They just played and fought and played some more. 

“Wh..what is this? Who..?”

“This is your home. This is what you want.”

Jorah was confused, he went to ask again but stopped. There was Daenerys. She looked more beautiful than ever. She was smiling and laughing as she walked over to the small girl who had fallen over. Her arms were open and when she picked the young child up all Jorah could see was love. 

His eyes were now ready to give up their fight. 

“Yes, I do.”

Standing up Jorah just looked at the three, his heart clenched, begging them to see him. And she did. First, her eyes lit up and then a smirk plastered her face as she whispered to both the children who all turned and exploded with joy. The girl set off running towards him first but was soon overtaken by the boy, whose legs were longer. The sight of the two of them caused Jorah’s heart to squeeze with happiness and he couldn’t help but run to them.

When he reached them they embraced him, and even though he didn’t even know their names; he loved them. They were his children. They were their children. Soon Daenerys joined them. Jorah stood, the children still hugging his legs. She was radiant, like a goddess sent down from heaven. She knew what he was thinking, he could tell by the blush on her cheeks. Opening his arms wide she joined in the embrace. He couldn’t help but kiss her in that moment. She returned it, with the same amount of love he had given. He was home. When they broke the kiss for air she smiled. 

“How..?” Jorah asked, emotion breaking through his voice.

She giggled, warming his heart further.

“This is your future Jorah,” she kissed him again before hugging him, resting her head on his shoulder. Jorah relaxed, closing his eyes as she continued.

“This is the future you could have. Or…” 

Jorah felt his heart contort with anxiety. 

“Or what Dany?”

Silence

“Dany?” 

Opening his eyes, their surroundings had changed. They were in the streets of Kings Landing. Or what used to be. The buildings a mix of rubble and flame. The smell of charred flesh poisoning his lungs. Pulling out from the embrace, he felt her arms go limp. She was paler now. He eyes glazing over, losing their purple colour.

“Daenerys?” his voice was fragile. 

A single streak of blood left her mouth and nose, tears falling from her eyes. 

Looking down, Jorah could see that the children were now replaced with stains of ash on his clothes and burnt rags on the ground at his feet. Trailing his eyes back up, he could see a blade sticking through her heart. The handle was plunged through her back, his hand grasping it. Jorah lowered her now dead body to the floor, shock and horror plastering his face. Once she was laid down, he turned and threw up. Tears stinging his eyes. Had he done that? 

Turning back to her, he crumpled onto his knees, sobbing. “Please, no. Daenerys please!” he couldn’t live without her. How could he have killed her? He wept further, holding her body to him, praying for her to say something.

“Or this could be your future.” it was now the voice from the tree.

Jorah jumped up, rage coursing through his veins. 

“Who are you?!! What did you do?!!! I swear I will kill you, if it takes my life I will hunt you and make you suffer unbelievable pain. I swear it!!” Looking back at the body of the woman he loved, he broke. “Why?” he sobbed.

“It has not happened yet. Only you can decide the course of fate.”

“How? Tell me how?”

“You have told yourself how to many times.”

“Don’t play with me! Tell me how to save her!”

Silence.

“Tell me!!”

Looking around Jorah could see Heartsbane laid on the floor. Crawling over he picked it up, cutting his finger in the process, and held to his abdomen. Gritting his teeth he spoke, “Tell me how or I will end myself here and now. I will not be a part of your sick game.”

Silence.

“Very well” he muttered, before exhaling. ‘Come on Jorah, you can do this.’

Jorah could hear the tearing of flesh and the feeling of his own body giving way as he plunged the sword deep into himself. The pain was unbearable but as he collapsed, he looked over to her. Her face was just as beautiful in death. His vision darkened slowly. He willed himself to fight the urge. To look at her for a moment longer. Black.

========================================================================

Jorah shot up in his bed. He was dripping with sweat. Gasping for breath he looked around. Where was he? He felt like he had been drowned. A small candle lit up the face of Missandei, who looked a mixture of terrified and relieved. 

“Wh..” his voice was hoarse and dry. His throated felt constricted from lack of water.

Pushing him down back into his bed, she dabbed his head with a damp cloth. “Sh..sh. Your ok, your alright.” 

Relaxing slightly, Jorah felt his eyes grow heavy again. “Sh.. you’ll be okay, I’ll get Daenerys in the morning,” She paused, as Jorah gave into sleep again. “Jorah, how did you cut your finger?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, answers will be coming but I can’t say when. Thanks for all support and patience.


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